


Go home, Sam

by sebfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Post Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebfish/pseuds/sebfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end Sam's the one to slam the gates of Hell closed, only he's on the wrong side. </p>
<p>Written as a possible happy ending to Season 8. Implied Wincestiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go home, Sam

In the end Sam's the one to slam the gates of Hell closed, only he's on the wrong side.

 

He gets one glimpse of Dean's terrified face before the gap closes and there's nothing but Hell around him, fire and screams far away and a vast dark empty space before the front gates of Hell.

 

And he's so exhausted still from what he's endured and his mind's so blank with the knowledge that he's in Hell for the rest of eternity that he can only sink down onto whatever passes for floor there, not quite lying down but close enough. He stays like that for what feels like half an eternity, blank and unmoving because there's really no reason to get up and move when there's only Hell around him on all sides.

 

Nothing bothers him while he sits there for he is the Boy King come home into his kingdom at last; the demons rejoice but know well enough to leave their king alone until he should see fit to join them. He has always been a reluctant king, though the elders among the demons are confident that he will take up the mantle given enough time. 

 

But there is someone else who has a different plan for Sam, and as he sits crouched on the sulfur-stained floor a cool sweet breeze prompts him to lift his head for the first time in half an eternity. 

 

Chuck is standing before him, clean and crisp in dressier clothes than Sam's ever seen him and Sam isn't sure if it's the unexpectedness or the weight of something settled over Chuck that he's never felt before that leave him wordless. But Chuck doesn't seem to mind that he can't figure out what to say, a gentle smile breaking over his face like the dawn, and Sam suddenly feels small and dirty and insignificant. 

 

Chuck speaks.

 

" _Well done, my good and faithful servant._ " 

 

A feeling rushes through Sam like love and forgiveness and he's crying, hot tears dripping down his face and blurring his vision and he bows his head ashamed. A cool hand cups the side of his face and he feels Chuck's thumb wiping at the tears. 

 

" _Go home, Sam._ " There's a press of warm lips on his forehead like a blessing and then. 

 

He wakes up by degrees in a warm bed in a cool dark room that smells vaguely familiar. Sam feels awake and refreshed and whole like he hasn't in a long time and the familiar itchy burn of the cough in his chest is gone. He takes a deep breath, reveling in the languid feeling of loose warm limbs in cotton sheets and sits up, pushing the sheet and wool blanket away as he stretches. 

 

He's  _home,_ in the bunker and in his room and he's got a pretty good idea of what just happened, even if the details of his encounter with Chuck are starting to trickle away like water on the earth. He slips out of bed and treads quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him carefully as if afraid to break the spell. And maybe there's a part of him that's afraid that this is a spell, that he'll wake up and find himself in Hell again, but there's a quality of  _real_  that was never there in his hallucinations before so he lets the quiet spark of hope in his chest bloom bright and warm. 

 

The lights are on in the main area when he comes out of the hallway and God, there's Dean and Castiel. Castiel is sitting at the table poring through a book with Dean standing behind him, peering over his shoulder with a mug of coffee in hand.

 

He clears his throat and there's a sudden clash of crockery as Dean jerks up to look at him. Dean's eyes are wide and startled and so vividly green and then he's moving and Sam is wrapped up in his arms. Sam wraps his own arms around his brother and presses his face into his shoulder even though he's really been too tall to do since he passed six foot. 

 

"God, Sam." Dean's voice is choked and rough as he pulls back, looking at Sam. "Cas and I've been dreaming that you'd come back but we knew it couldn't be that simple, you shoudn't have been able to, but you're here, you came home."

 

Sam nods and there's something like happiness welling up in his chest, bright and pure and hopeful. And Cas is standing there suddenly at his elbow too, sliding his hands around them to complete the trinity.

 

"Welcome home, Sam." His voice is warm and rough and familiar and Sam sinks into the feeling of his brother and his angel at his sides when he thought he'd never see them again.

 

"It's good to be home."


End file.
